


Pokémon Sword & Shield: Moment of Glory

by ScatQueenGaming



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Caution, Coming Out, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Coprophagia, Coprophilia, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Extreme, F/F, Fisting, Friends to Lovers, Hardcore Yuri, Lesbian Sex, POV Lesbian Character, Present Tense, Romance, Scat, Shit As Lube, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Vaginal Fisting, Waste Play, Watersports, Yuri, body fluids, human toilet, piss drinking, probably underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScatQueenGaming/pseuds/ScatQueenGaming
Summary: For Gloria, winning the championship may be the end of one journey, but it’s also the beginning of another...
Relationships: Mary | Marnie & Yuuri | Gloria, Mary | Marnie/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38
Collections: Toilet of Our Own (scat watersports musk etc.)





	Pokémon Sword & Shield: Moment of Glory

Gloria comes in, out of the cold wind, out of the roar of the crowd. She finally relaxes, takes a second, rests against the wall until her legs are steady. Something about this doesn’t feel real yet, like it was just another battle. Like her moment is yet to come.

She’s meant to call her mum now. Meant to - but she can’t. Gloria knows she will have been watching the finals on TV, and though Gloria could talk about the championship, she promised herself that today, win or lose, she’d tell her mum the other thing. The hard thing.

But Gloria isn’t ready yet. How could she explain what she has become to her mum when she doesn’t even understand it herself? Maybe later.

Somebody else promised her something, and she wants that first. *Needs* it.

Gloria troops through to the changing room, a near-empty hall of spotless white tiles and wooden benches built into the floor. Most of the girls have already showered and left, the exhibition matches long since over. The half-dozen left over are already putting on their skirts and blouses.

But there is a beautiful little straggler there, right at the back, pretending to be almost done but dragging her heels as she pulls her little studded leather jacket over her pink minidress, ties her dark choker around her neck. She’s waiting for something. Waiting for Gloria.

Gloria stares at her, waiting for the moment she notices, and when that moment comes, her jade eyes light up and Gloria’s heart swells. Marnie can’t risk waving, not while the other girls are still here, but she gives Gloria something rare enough on her to be a risk in itself: a smile, one so full and passionate that nobody who hasn’t seen it would believe it could appear on Marnie’s pale, gorgeous face.

Gloria strips off slowly, so slowly, not meaning to tease her, but just to ensure that the others can finish, hopefully shuffle out, before she is even halfway done. But when Gloria feels Marnie’s radiant eyes on her, she really can’t help but add a little smidgin of seductiveness to her movements, pulling her well-used shirt up with both hands and sliding it up over her breasts, bosom heaving and sweaty from the field, and nipples already hardening inside her sports bra.

Gloria has come a long way from Postwick, in so many senses, and that has more than anything to do with Marnie. People in the village she still distantly thinks of as home used to whisper to each other about how the other half lived in Spikemuth: children in the playground swapping rumors with embarrassed giggles; the adults hushed, disapproving, scandalized.

Adults like her mum.

Gloria had always thought of these stories as snooty gossip, too ridiculous to have any truth to them, designed only to rationalize the wealth places like Postwick had and did nothing to share. And besides, there was no evidence of those whispered tales. Yes, she had thought of the rumors of the Spikemuth lifestyle as sheer nonsense, all of her life, right up until the day she met Marnie. 

From that day forward, she wished every night to Jirachi that those tales were true.

Slipping her sock-clad feet out of her battle trainers onto the changing room bench, Gloria flexes her legs, points her toes, massages her calves. This is subtle enough that the few other girls left in the changing room will see it as a cooling down exercise, and perhaps that’s all it should be, but Gloria knows Marnie sees something else in it. She can see her girl’s face reddening even from here, and gives her a sly, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink.

As the two girls have traveled together across Galar, growing closer, almost all of the stories about Spikemuth have come true. They have come true over and over again, in everywhere from a five star Circhester hotel room to some particularly overgrown bushes in a less well-trodden part of the wild area - everywhere they have had a moment alone together. Gloria hopes, prays, the last will come true tonight, the one that crosses the line from just smutty to unbelievable depravity. 

Gloria believes in it. Marnie promised.

Gloria turns away from Marnie, bends right over, kneeling on the bench, and gradually, teasingly, slides her shorts down the skin of her bum cheeks. This is a bold move, perhaps too bold while they are still in public, but she has seen the final couple of girls starting to leave, and she can barely restrain herself at this point. The cloth is so smooth against her moist, soft skin, so sensual as it passes across her lewdly exhibited buttocks, down her trim, athletic thighs, that she is getting as much pleasure out of this now as she hope she is sparking in Marnie. With a small flick of her toes, she kicks them away across the floor.

Before Gloria knows it, she has a thumb from each hand digging into the waistband of her knickers, and she is wondering something very naughty indeed. She is wondering whether, before she goes for her ‘shower’, she can get away with doing the same thing with her underwear: sliding her little white lacies down her legs, leaving her winking bum, her wettening slit, on full display, not only to Marnie, but any of the other girls left here who want to see. Wouldn’t that be something?

Her legs tremble, her toes curl, as she silently decides that, yes, that’s just the kind of slut she wants to be for her Marnie; that’s exactly what her girl has made her into, and she loves it. She’s just getting her fingers ready, just working up the nerve…

And then her knickers start coming off of their own accord. And this can’t just be gravity; it’s a sharp tug that pulls them past her thumbs as well as her hips. Gloria shrieks as she grasps for them, but they’re sliding down her legs now, and even as she scrambles for them, they fly off her, leaving her so bare, so vulnerable.

So naked.

Gloria flips around, one arm struggling to cover her breasts, the other seeking some forlorn modesty for her woman’s place. But there is nobody left in the changing rooms.

Nobody except Marnie, standing over her, Gloria’s underwear dangling between her teeth. The gusset is facing her, and there is an embarrassingly big, white, gooey smear of lust laid in it.

“Congrats, Champion!” Her girlfriend has to utter it through her teeth, but Gloria know she means it.

Still, Gloria is mad, banging her fists ineffectually on Marnie’s leather lapels.

“You dirty little b…,” she starts, until her lover simply leans her mouth towards hers, stifling her yells with her own soiled underwear. Marnie’s tongue pushes its surface against hers, forcing Gloria to taste the bittersweet evidence of her own lust, and then everything melts.

They spend precious moments there, locked in embrace, breathing nothing but silk and Gloria’s naughty dollop of girl cream until they tear away from each other, panting, and the purified knickers fall into the soft valley of their heaving bosoms.

“I’m...uh...sorry, darlin’. I couldn’t wait any longer,” offers Marnie.

“I...I know how you feel,” Gloria moans.

“No, darlin’...I mean I...really can’t wait any longer,” the punk trainer explains, pointing to her belly. “...I locked the door. They won’t disturb the new champ, will they?”

“Oh...oh, gosh,” face reddening further as she understands. She clambers back onto the gym bench, heart never beating faster as she lays her body down along it. “Give it to me, Marnie. Give it to me right here. *Everything*.”

Marnie climbs up onto the bench, curt steps putting her spike-heeled boots onto the wooden panes propping up Gloria’s head.

She wants to be able to tell her mum how she feels at moments like this. Show her, even: ‘Yes mum, I’m a dyke, and actually quite a disgusting one at that. Just look at what turns your daughter on, what really gets her juices flowing…’ Would her mum still be proud of her little trainer after seeing this?

“Been waitin’ a long time for this,” she whispers down to Gloria, huskily. “Wasn’t sure I could hold it.”

“If I couldn’t make it, might you have had to...go in your knickers?” Gloria murmurs suggestively.

“Perhaps I mighta,” she sighs, “but I don’t need to worry about that, now that my glorious li’l toilet is here ta save the day…”

Marnie slides her little knickers, all pink, frilly filigree, down her creamy, flawless teenage thighs and steps one boot out, leaving them dangling around the top of the other. There simply isn’t time for anything more precise, but her haste, her very desperation itself is so very sexy to Gloria.

“You ready, darlin’?,” she asks, stroking Gloria’s chestnut locks.

“Always!” Gloria answers, leaving her mouth open for what is to come, and her tongue lolling out of it in lewd anticipation. She is just as desperate to receive as Marnie is to give, perhaps more so, the strength of her need for this impossible to explain but so deeply felt.

Marnie rocks back up on her heels, lifts her skirt up to reveal her waxed pussy, hairless beneath a small heart image shaved from the hair on her pubic bone, and bleached shocking pink. She spreads her little lips with her other hand, giving Gloria only moments to appreciate just how much pasty white fluid she is wet with there before her peehole springs into life.

Gloria sees the trickle start, feels the first hot droplets of her lover’s pee splatter onto the hardened nipples of her small breasts. Then the stream begins in earnest, jetting forth and filling her mouth with acrid lemonade, hissing as it leaves the source and babbling as it strikes the liquid already filling the space between her vermilion lips.

“Do you like that, darlin’? Do you like bein’ my little pisspot?,” Marnie asks, casually flipping one of her pigtails back as she just ruins Gloria so beautifully.

Gloria wishes she could answer without wasting a drop of Marnie’s sacrosanct gift; somehow tell her how much this means to her. Instead, her tongue is bobbing around, bathing in the hot, delicious acid of her lover’s girly waste, subsumed in its flavors. She is stroking herself, her hard clit tangibly wet, as she begins to drink it down before it overflows.

Just as Gloria is losing herself in becoming Marnie’s personal urinal, starting to drift towards an early orgasm, something truly magical happens. She feels something warm, soft and wet, but solid, land on her skin in the space between her budding teenage breasts. A moment later the smell is in the air, earthy and stinking heavier than its weight.

Gloria gags, accidentally spilling some of her beloved piss from her mouth, but it’s alright. More than alright.

Today is the day all her wishes come true.

Gloria looks up at Marnie, her punk angel smiling sweetly as she continues pissing on Gloria’s face, but, behind her, a long, thick rope of shit is spooling out of her rear to where it falls into Gloria’s grateful bosom.

“I told you I was havin’ trouble holdin’ this in…” Marnie explains. As her stream of pee trickles to a halt, sprinkling stray drizzles over Gloria’s cheeks and neck, Marnie begins to touch herself as well, clearly getting off on using Gloria like this and seeing Gloria’s evident delight in her own degradation. “But the champion deserves this...special treat.”

It is curling around on her skin now, Marnie’s crap: hot and thick and heavy. Gloria’s lover is giving herself so generously, giving things that Gloria had lusted after seemingly from the moment she had first laid eyes on the gorgeous little punk girl, things she had been begging her for for weeks, but never really imagined she could ever be worthy of receiving.

She wants so much to hold it in her hands, maybe even to swallow it, but she is unsure what she can handle yet, and contents herself with the already amazing feeling of Marnie just laying out her turds over the sensitive skin of her pointed nipples. Gasping, she rubs her blooded clittie raw.

“Thank-you,” Gloria says, from the bottom of her heart.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” Marnie says, gazing at her lovingly.

Then both of their eyes pass to what they both smell: the hot, heavy valley of brown that Marnie has lain across across her chest.

Gloria is so curious about it tastes, Marnie’s hot, sticky gift, but she doesn’t know where or how to start. Now that it is real, the air thick with its rich scent, something in her roiling stomach still holds her back, betrays her, tells her that just munching down her lover’s turds might be just too sick, even for her. 

Marnie, still astride Gloria, looks into her eyes again, and, as if she can read her lover’s mind, is ready to lend a helping hand. “It’s tough bein’ a toilet, ain’t it, darlin’? Maybe we could start with you just bein’...toilet paper?”

She stands up again, towering over Gloria, who watches her girlfriend’s arousal literally dripping out of her onto Gloria’s soiled chest. Marnie steps around it carefully, reversing direction so that instead of her wanton, pissy pussy, it’s the lucent skin of her full, quivering bum positioned over Gloria’s face.

“Are you ready for this, darlin’? It ain’t gonna be clean back there…” Marnie checks.

Gloria can see it isn’t: that perfect little winking hole that she is used to licking nothing but sweat from is now smeared with brown streaks running in all directions. Streaks that Gloria wants nothing better than to wipe off on her horny little teenage tongue.

“Y-yes, I believe so…”, she manages to stammer.

Slowly, slowly, Marnie bends her knees and lowers her arse towards her, filling Gloria further with her girlfriend’s toxic scent. Ignoring a last sane voice inside her telling her to move away, move anywhere else, Gloria pivots towards it, angles her face so that her lover’s dirty bumcrack lands right on her lolling, trembling tongue.

Gingerly, she begins to lick and, with the tip of her tongue, pry the remnants of Marnie’s fecal filth free from her swollen arselips, getting nasty lover’s chocolate all over her tastebuds. It is so, overwhelmingly bitter - bitterer than a Ganlon berry curry - but Gloria knows it is made with all the heart in the world, only for her.

Gloria is touching her clit again as the first taste of Marnie’s shit slivers down her throat and at that moment, as a small but potent climax washes over her, she decides: she loves Marnie, and loves everything that will ever come from her.

Feeling herself cleansed, Marnie hops down the bench beside her. She looks in Gloria eyes, curious, perhaps braced for disappointment, but Gloria smiles at her, and opens her mouth, licking her lips. “All gone,” she winks.

Marnie kisses her on the lips, then with her tongue; savors the fragments of herself enveloped in Gloria.

“Don’t worry,” her beloved tells her, moving across to the piping dump she just took over Gloria’s beating heart. “There’s plenty more where that came from…”

Marnie wears a serious expression as puts her hand into it fearlessly, squeezes it through her fingers, like she is a master chef and it is merely dough. Like this wasn’t a meal she was cooked inside herself. 

Gloria wishes she could show her mum this. Make her *smell* it. Tell her, without shame, ‘this is the woman I love’. Maybe in the future, years from now.

“Darlin’, are you ready to taste me, I mean, really taste me?” Marnie asks gently, rubbing the lumps of her shit between her fingers, almost caressing them.

“I love you, Marnie. I love your taste...all of it...” Gloria whispers, one hand cradling her lover’s arm.

They lock eyes as Marnie plucks a small turd from the mass, pops it into her mouth with a dirty finger, and bends down to meet Gloria’s breathless lips.

Gloria remembers the time Marnie and her had watched baby Rookidees being fed mouth-to-mouth by Corvisquires in the wild area; the feeling of being there with their hands interlocked, whispering to each other how sweet it was. She is so happy, so honored, that Marnie would choose to feed her this first time in the same intimate, sharing way. 

Honestly, there’s something about this that feels deeply maternal to Gloria: the way Marnie’s generous tongue slips her own filth into Gloria’s mouth, the way their lips meet around it and sanctify it. Marnie teaches her all these perversions, shows her the Spikemuth ways, like a mother teaches her child. As she strokes her never-harder clit to calm the Butterfrees in her stomach, as her lover’s feces dissolves in her mouth and slides down her throat, Gloria knows that this is the final lesson. Now she is an adult.

“Did ya like it, lover?” Marnie asks her, maybe a little concerned this is too intense an experience for an outsider.

“I loved it,” Gloria gushes, gazing at her face. “I never want to eat anything else again that isn’t from you.”

Gloria kisses her love on the lips again, holds her hands through the mess and filth that surrounds them, pulls her in with an intensity that surprises even herself. Marnie’s jacket is smeared with her muck, at first accidentally, but then, as if to show Gloria how few fucks she gives, purposefully: her own hands smearing first her leather with shit, then even her dress inside, muddy handprints left on the pink fabric where she enjoys squeezing her hard nipples through it.

This wasn’t an end, Gloria realizes; it’s a beginning. Marnie has taken them here, to play together in this grotesque sapphic wonderland, but now she wants to run through it like a kid with her arms outstretched, looking for any boundary or border left that they might transgress together. She searches herself for deepest, darkest fantasies, and trembles when she realizes what her body wants.

Gloria may not take much of an interest in cock anymore, if she ever did, but something within her, something deep and primal, wants her lover *inside* of her, and not only momentarily. She wants to hold on to some piece of Marnie inside herself, even after their fleshly embrace is over, something that she can cradle, protect and grow within her - forever. Maybe it’s perverse, yes, maybe it’s wrong, but Arceus be damned, she wants that thing to be Marnie’s delicious, intoxicating shit.

Shivering, she realizes that she needs to feel it up against her *womb*.

“Marnie,” Gloria whines, “Would you finger me now, babe? Put your lovely little fingers inside me...please?”

“But darlin’, like this…?” the punk princess exclaims, staring anew at the filth coating her slim, manicured hands. There is a hint of trepidation in her voice - but also, seemingly, a sick, unbelieving excitement that Gloria is ready and willing to go even to this utterly perverse place.

Gloria nods, smiles sincerely. “That’s how I want you, my love. That’s how I’ll always want you.”

Marnie rubs her fingers tentatively around Gloria’s drooling cunt, and as gentle as her lover’s movement is, as wet and open as Gloria is for her, it stings to the touch like her mum’s posh Rawst berry shampoo, as the bitterness that burned her mouth is slathered over her most sensitive place of all.

“Uh...fuck...Marnie…,” Gloria moans, trim legs quivering on the bench as the girl she loves drives her crazy, massaging her soft, shaven pussylips with her raw, sensual sewage. This is a moment crazier than anything Gloria ever imagined before - and one she wants more badly than she could have ever believed.

“It’s alright baby, you’re doin’ brilliant. First time in the brown, it’s gonna sting, but you got this, you’re amazin’...,” Marnie comforts.

It feels like she has one hand at the top of Gloria’s entrance now, two fingers pointed down, peeling her lips open, spreading her hood open so that her clit can be happily toxified, engulfed in Marnie’s malodorous, luscious gunk. Below, the fingers of her other hand are playing around her opening, smearing it with preparatory filth, but not yet ready to enter.

The Butterfrees in Gloria’s stomach are swarming now, doing somersaults, screeching at her to stop. But her heart is screaming even louder to keep going. To descend.

“Come inside me Marnie, I love you, please, uh, please put yourself inside me…,” Gloria manages.

“Oh darlin’...” Marnie sighs, shaking her head at this intimately perverse scene.

Gloria feels a light kiss on her tainted clit before her lover’s fingers begin to probe her passage, bringing Marnie’s aromatic bowel batter in to caress her baby-pink inner walls. She sucks and holds her breath in as she is touched the way she has longed an eternity for, Marnie’s index and and middle finger curling against the roof of her cunny, painting itchy brown stalagmites that drip down her inner passages as her hot juices flow. She squeezes herself around what Marnie is filling her with, hips rising off the bench in unconstrained excitement.

“You’re really holdin’ me tight,” laughs Marnie. “Fancy another finger?”

“Uh…yes, yes, oh my, yeeesssss…,” whines Gloria, maybe not thinking too clearly at this point, but just going with what feels natural, the way Marnie always tells her to. “I want...I want them all…! I want your *everything* inside me… Marnie, *please*…!”

Gloria wishes Marnie could be close enough right now for them to kiss, the way they do when her lover takes her with her big, black strap-on, but with the punk rock princess occupied at the end of the bench working half of her fist into her, it is not to be. Instead, Gloria raises her head up and pulls her small tits towards her face; they are just developed enough that she can tongue her own nipples; tempting enough when she used to spend nights alone in her tent thinking about very much this kind of scenario; unavoidable when the potent stench of Marnie’s teencrap is wafting off her own breasts, just crying out to be licked off.

As the incredible Spikemuth trainer feeds her filth-encrusted ring finger into her, opening her wider than she has ever been before, Gloria’s outstretched tongue is put to use rimming her own left areola as if it were her lover’s shit-stained arsehole. Driven mad by the bitter taste, she starts biting down on her nipple, very damn hard, while she squeezes the right through her fingers and Marnie’s undigested roughage. And when Marnie’s little finger follows her third into her, Gloria doesn’t even feel the pain, just the pleasure, no, the *privilege* of having herself opened in this way, open to anything, no matter how debased or perverse.

“Oh, Marnie, oh, that’s right, that’s so *right*! Come on, *fist* me,” Gloria groans, kicking her parted legs and curling her toes as she feels her lover enter her in full, splitting her open. “Feed me your filth, babe, *pollute* me! Oh, Arceus! Marnie I love you *so* much!”

Gloria has difficulty understanding what is physically happening now, the feelings inside her so intense, but she sees Marnie go down on her, perceives her precious girl’s tongue on her clit, gently taking the edge off as her brutal hand reaches ever deeper inside her. Marnie’s mouth is lost beyond the horizon of Gloria’s trembling, distended belly, but her eyes alone are now so expressive. Gloria meets them between the earthy valley of her soiled tits, and knowing Marnie would be smiling at her now, if she could, smiles back at her until the experience takes her again and reduces her to gasping.

“I think this move expresses my feelin’s,” her talented lover croons, between soft nibbles of her pussylips and clit. “What do you think?”

Marnie is uncurling her hand deep inside her; she feels each finger spreading her open even further. A fat, runny lump of girlshit drops from her lover’s palm into her, a final gift, right into that spot that Marnie knows always brings her, her wild area. It sizzles against Gloria’s boiling inner skin like a lump of butter in a frying pan.

“How does that feel, darlin’?,” Marnie croons, “My black sludge inside you? You’re really my toilet now, ain’t ya? The Champion of sewage disposal...”

Gloria’s answers are merely whines, grunts and screams. She sees herself kicking again, wilder, beyond her control. She grabs her own breasts, squeezing her nipples just because she needs something, anything, to hold onto at this moment.

She comes the first time without even the touch of her lover’s fingers there, just the touch of her colon cream curdling in her, so soft and gentle, so fucking wrong, so damn hot. But then Marnie starts mashing her fingers through it, her manicured nails becoming toxic spikes that scrape maddeningly against her insides, and that brings her again, so much harder.

Gloria, Champion of Galar, is now just this thing, this piece of meat that exists only with reference to Marnie’s filth-encrusted max fist. If she could see herself, she would be wriggling and struggling around it like a Magikarp hooked on a rod and dragged to shore. But she doesn’t feel awkward, rather majestic, serpentine, as she writhes up and down on Marnie’s arm, impaling herself on it ever deeper until her lover’s shit-stained knuckles are pressed tight against the base of her womb.

That intensity, that sense of having all her barriers being broken, is what brings her the hardest, white-hot and delirious and feeling like she’s falling, falling forever into Marnie.

“Uh, that’s right, bitch, I want your crap on my ovaries, *oh*!”, Gloria whines, abandoning her last vestiges of sanity. “I belong to you, Marnie, breed me with your delicious shit!”

An hour from now, Gloria will be on the phone to her mum, calmly telling her she has found the love of her life, and that, yes, she’s another girl.

In ten minutes, Marnie will be spooning her here on the bench before they head for the showers, slowly licking the fingers of Marnie’s open palm, sharing each other’s flavors.

But now, right now, is her moment of glory, her insides exploding lusciously as she savors Marnie’s darkness and poison from the tip of her tongue to the depths of her cunny. Even with her head thrown back, screaming in ecstasy, Gloria knows from the heat and swelling in her vulva that she is erupting now, squirting and pissing whatever she has into her girlfriend’s gorgeous, eager face.

She just lets go, lets everything go because there isn’t room left inside her for anything but Marnie.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the memory of Sir Roger Scruton, 1944-2020
> 
> "Stay yuri, stay foolish."


End file.
